Ivory Towers
by Socket-52
Summary: Carter tries to reconnect with his mother, with mixed results.
1. Chapter 1

**Coding: **Eleanor/Carter, Eleanor/Jack

**Timeline:** Four Corners (Series 8)

**A/N:** I wrote this years ago but only just got round to posting it here. Big shout out to Robin and Es for encouraging me : )

**Ivory Towers (Part One)**

When he was a child he could tell when his mother had entered the room. People revered her. Crowds would part for her, like the red sea. She carried herself gallantly and people would stare at her as if she were a drifting shipwreck – amazed that she was still afloat.

When Bobby died, he took her with him. She's hollow inside, that's why she pays such careful attention to surface detail. She lives in a world of social functions and polite conversation because it's safe, because it's time-consuming and because it's all she knows how to do anymore.

Carter hardly sees her, his choice now. He's still so angry with her and doesn't want to see her pain because his own is in the way. He hates that she still has this hold on him but she's his mother, unconditional love is a burden and sometimes he wishes he could be more like her and detach himself.

As the guests begin to leave his grandfathers wake, he watches her drink a glass of Merlot and thinks of all the words he's used to describe her over the years. She's aware that he's watching her but she doesn't alter her movements. He likes that about her; she might be walking around in a bubble of denial but she does it with style.

He can't help but watch her and although she's difficult to be around, although he wants to shake her till the bubble bursts – she fascinates him. Her powers of deniability are awe-inspiring; he thinks she should be studied.

Eleanor makes her way towards him. "John," she says in a baritone devoid of inflection. "It's rude to stare."

"Yes it is but since you were less than welcoming to a good friend of mine earlier, I figured it cancelled out my impoliteness," he replies sharply.

She sips her wine, not looking at him. "Friend?" she asks dubiously.

"Abby."

"Oh, that dishevelled woman who was here earlier?"

"Abby is her name."

"You're being snippy John."

"Well, we've just buried Gramps - we can't all be as contained as you, Mom. Some of us have feelings."

"Yes, some of us do," she retorts, putting her glass down, still not looking at him.

There's a silence. An awful silence filled with painful memories and reasons to stay separate from each other.

"It's just as well your father and I are staying at _The Drake_ if I make you that uncomfortable," now she looks at him, her eyes are like mirrors, reflecting back, preventing him from seeing what lies beneath her words.

He wants to say '_How soon can you leave?_' He wants to say '_Please stay, I need you._' But what he actually says is "You don't always have to stay in hotels."

She turns away from him. "It's only for tonight."

He gazes at her back in disbelief. "You're only staying for a night?"

"Your father is staying a week, I have a flight to New York first thing tomorrow morning."

Carter shakes his head, almost smiling as he says. "Of course," and he wants to have a conversation of substance with her but he doesn't think she's earnt it, so he walks away from her.

* * *

They drive to the hotel in silence. Eleanor reaches out and covers Jack's hand with hers. He doesn't look at her as he removes his hand from under hers and crosses his arms, staring out the limousine window.

She's always had Jack. Always. Now he's altering the rules, changing their agreement and Eleanor doesn't think she can cope with changes this far past the start mark.

They arrive at _The Drake_ and Jack heads straight in, doesn't even wait for her to step out of the car. She walks into the hotel ten yards behind her husband and smiles at the woman on reception as Jack asks for the keys to their rooms. She tries not to look anxious that he's booked them separate adjoining rooms, again.

But it's his father's funeral and she knows that he's upset, that he's finding it difficult to accept, that he's… in all honesty, she doesn't really know anything about how Jack's feeling; they don't talk anymore.

They get in the elevator, stand side-by-side without touching and he smells of brandy and cigar smoke, she remembers how once that would have turned her on. There's a young couple in the elevator with them, talking and laughing, hand-in-hand gazing lovingly at each other. It's like a slap in the face and Eleanor turns away from them: sometimes it feels like everyone in the world is happy except her.

They get off at the third floor and walk along the corridor. Jack slips the key card through the door and pushes it open. Eleanor follows him into the room.

The curtains are drawn, her suitcase is next to the bed and a lamp casts a soft light on the room. She's used to hotel rooms. They feel like home, but now, she'd give anything to be at the Cape. To be surrounded by familiar objects.

He opens the door to the adjoining room and is about to close it behind him.

"Jack," she calls.

He freezes.

She doesn't know what it is she wants to say; only that she should say something. "He was a good man," she states.

Jack's shoulders tense. "No he wasn't, he wasn't a good man but he was my father and I'd appreciate it if you'd avoid false sentiment, it's easier than listening to your lies."

He shuts the door on her. Eleanor is motionless, her breath catches and she's on the point of hysteria or crying… or something. She leans against the door separating them, presses her palms and forehead against the smooth wood. Once, all of this was so easy.

She moves slowly towards the bed and removes her clothing. She slips her hands down her body, caressing her bare skin - just to make sure she feels, just to make sure that along with her emotions, her senses haven't left her too. Jack hasn't touched her in years, not the way he used to, not with passion. She thinks of all the times he used to grab her, used to waltz her around a room whispering in her ear. Now all he does is pull away from her.

Eleanor finds a nightdress in her suitcase; she slips it on and gets into bed. She turns the light out, folds her arms behind her head and stares at the ceiling. She's getting used to being left. First Bobby, then Jack… even John walked away from her today and, she supposes, she deserves it.

She thinks of Jack in the next room, alone and grieving, and wishes he would let her comfort him: wishes she had the courage to try. Maybe she still loves him… maybe she just can't imagine losing him as well. He swore he'd never leave, no matter how bad things got but that was twenty years ago and everything's changed… and even though they're both miserable, she can't be without him; she hasn't the stamina.


	2. Chapter 2

**Timeline:** Beyond Repair  
**  
**

**Ivory Towers (Part Two)**

Eleanor's never been good at goodbyes and now 'hello's' are just as difficult. So whilst she waits for John to bring Millicent home from the rehabilitative centre, her nervous energy increases.

She's usually still; it's taken her years to perfect being that still. But when your husband of thirty years leaves you, gone off who-knows-where and you're forced to beg a bed in your own home, it's unsettling. She knows Millicent could easily refuse to allow her to stay, would even take pleasure in it.

She hears their voices in the hall as they arrive; she checks her appearance in the mirror and then makes her unexpected entrance - trying to look casual.

Millicent is protesting as John informs her that he has hired a private duty nurse to look after her. He looks up to see his mother sweeping down on them from the staircase. He's taken back.

They exchange pleasantries but there's something behind her apparent casualness. Carter watches his mother closely, she looks nervous. He's never seen her quite so susceptible. Gamma doesn't seem to notice but then Millicent never liked his mother, so why would she care if Eleanor's world was falling apart?

Millicent eyes her daughter-in-law guardedly; time has taught her to mistrust Eleanor. The only advantage in seeing her stoic daughter-in-law is that Jack is in tow. But when Eleanor shows up, unannounced and alone, Millicent feels resentful that she should have to endure the emotional vampire without seeing her son.

John suspects that his parents pending divorce is the reason his mother is here; it certainly isn't for him or to aid Gamma's recovery. Suddenly he feels revulsion for her; she's like a parasite: trying to get what she wants from them while she can.

Then she bowls him over, she wants to stay at the house. Not a hotel. Not in a different state or a different continent, but in the same house. It unnerves him, now he knows something is wrong and he hates himself because he's glad she's here.

* * *

Carter settles Millicent into her room and when he comes downstairs, hoping to gleam some insight into his mothers impromptu visit, she's putting her coat on and he automatically assumes she's leaving because that's what he expects of her.

"You're leaving?"

"I phoned the Pediatric Cancer Society to inform them she wasn't coming to their luncheon and they managed to corral me," Eleanor explains, she doesn't add that she's doing it to get out of Millicent's way, to alleviate her guilt or because she needs to keep busy so that she doesn't notice the pieces of her life shattering around her.

"You don't really have to do that. She wasn't planning on going. She just does that for effect," Carter says.

"I'm aware of her behaviour. But they actually were expecting her. You'll be back tonight?"

John can't keep the surprise out of his voice. "You're really staying?"

Eleanor feels uncomfortable; she thought John would make this easier for her. "Yes. Unless I'm not welcome."

"No, no, it just… I thought you were covering. Dad's in Denver, actually."

Suddenly, Eleanor is overcome with nausea - if John knows about the separation… if Jack has been speaking about it openly, then things were bleaker than she had anticipated… maybe he really was planning never to return to her. She barely gets the words out. "Your father told you?"

John studies her closely. "Well, it was pretty obvious. He was here for two days at Christmas without you. You thought he was still here?"

Eleanor fidgets to distract from committing herself to a definite answer. "Uh, we, uh, left it a little open-ended."

John looks doubtful. "Really?"

Eleanor shifts tack because she can't have this conversation, not yet. "I'm sorry, John. I should have phoned you and let you know that I was coming."

Carter decides not to press the issue. "Yeah, well," he replies nonchalantly.

"It's good to see you," she says, then, after consideration, she leans forward and kisses his cheek.

The kiss is awkward and as she heads out the front door, she realises she did it to see if he would let her. He had.

Carter smiles to himself as he watches her go; he seems to spend his life watching her disappear. But he doesn't feel the terror anymore, the fear that he won't see her again. Sometimes he thinks it might be better if he didn't see her again because when she's near, it feels like it did twenty years ago. Like nothing's changed - and Bobby will always be between them, like an invisible wall. He's tried to knock it down, tried to reach her but her defences are impenetrable.

* * *

John is working a shift at the hospital and Millicent is confined to the house - she stays in her room, sulking as her nurse irritates her. So Eleanor finds herself alone and spends the day thinking of ways she can get Jack to come back to her. If only she could reach him, talk to him – but that's why he's hiding from her. He knows as well as she does that he's still weak for her. After all these years, if she asks him to come back, he will. So he's cut her off.

She's unnerved, restless, the world is sinking… her bubble is slowly filling with water and her screams are trapped within its confines… She decides to read, to focus her mind, to be transported away from real life for a few hours. She curls up in the lounge; the familiar feel of the leather bound book in her hands instantly brings comfort.

Millicent usually avoids Eleanor whenever possible but growing bored and frustrated after hours of isolation, she seeks out her daughter-in-law. Millicent comes across Eleanor reading in the lounge, she sits down opposite her and begins snipping.

During Millicent's verbal assault, Eleanor concentrates on the words in front of her: pretends she can't hear, pretends she isn't hurt. She's had to deal with Millicent's malevolent attitude towards her ever since she married Jack. She's always known that the Carter's considered her to be beneath them, that she was a substandard wife and mother, but she'd never been given a chance… only Jack knew her true nature, saw her heart under that diffident facade. And then, when tragedy struck, when Bobby died, she was denied redemption for her mistakes by the Carter's. She hates them all, with the exception of John…

Perturbed by Eleanor's lack of reaction, Millicent strikes harder. "Reading, Eleanor? I thought that was for intellectuals. Or are you trying to improve yourself? Better late than never I suppose. Still, there's always room for improvement… a whole cavalcade in your case."

Eleanor keeps her eyes on the page, refusing to let Millicent get to her.

Millicent presses on. "Must be fascinating, you haven't torn your eye from the page since I sat down. What is it you're reading? _The Ice Maiden_?"

Eleanor looks up, her gaze tenacious. "_Great Expectations_," she replies bitterly.

Millicent purses her lips together, then stands and leaves her daughter-in-law to her own devices.

* * *

Carter is overwhelmed. Lucy is dead and Paul Sobriki is on conditional release. Abby deceived him, his mother's here but not here and Paul Sobriki is on conditional release. And yet another day passes where he thinks the world is a cesspool of injustice.

When he gets home, he is met by a techy Millicent without the nurse he hired. As he phones the nursing company, he walks down the stairs, giving the nursing company a piece of his mind. "Yes, this is John Carter. I have a private duty nurse for my grandmother who was supposed to start today. She's not here. Yeah."

Eleanor overhears John, steps out into the hallway and casually informs him. "She was aggravating Millicent, so I sent her home early. She'll be back tomorrow at 6 am," then returns to the living room, _Great Expectations_ tucked under her arm.

Carter stares after her. "What?" he hangs-up the phone and follows her into the living room.

Eleanor glances apprehensively at him, he seems ruffled. "She was aggravating Millicent so I sent her home early. She'll be back at 6:00 am," Eleanor explains and then sits down on the sofa, about to open her book and resume reading.

Carter's eyes narrow. "It's a 24-hour service," he states as if she's dense.

Not wanting to create an atmosphere, Eleanor says. "I'll get up… if there's a problem," knowing that she'll hate every second of it - Millicent snipping and snarling - but she'll do it if that's what it takes for John to stop looking at her like that.

"What are you doing?" her son asks.

Puzzled, Eleanor holds his eye. "Pardon?"

Carter's mind freezes and he's just reacting. "I mean, you show up unannounced, uninvited…"

Eleanor is hurt. "Uninvited?" she exclaims, did she need to be invited into the family home now? Was she such an outsider?

"And now you're making health care decisions?" he barks.

Eleanor folds her hands in her lap. "Your grandmother asked me to ask her to leave. I was trying to be helpful," she states. It was the one thing Millicent had asked her to do and she hadn't wanted to disappoint her mother-in-law, not when she needed Millicent's goodwill now more than ever.

"Well, do me a favour. Don't try to be helpful. It's not one of your strong suits," John remarks cruelly.

Eleanor knows it may not have been the best decision but John hadn't been here to consult and she would not be spoken to in that manner. "Excuse me, John. I've had enough abuse from my mother-in-law today. I don't need any more from my son," she retorts.

She'd expected him to leave it at that but to her amazement, he stays rooted to the spot, staring at her.

"I'm sorry? I'm sorry but I have help Gamma through this. I have tended to her medical needs. I have made her health care arrangements. So you need to consult with me before you do anything like this," he states.

"Fine. Call them back."

"Yeah, you bet I will," John turns and heads towards the door. His temper frayed to the extreme, his back aching from the remnants of an 8-inch stab wound and the knowledge that Paul Sobriki is out on conditional release.

Unable to resist, Eleanor adds. "Fine but I'm not leaving this house, even if I am uninvited… I'm not going to let your father break-up this family."

And it's the way she says 'family', as if she understands the concept, as if she owns it, that enrages him. He turns to face his mother. "Family, huh? What family would that be? You checked out of this family twenty years ago," and he feels the fury seep out. He explodes at her: she needs to hear it. "I was stabbed – where were you?" He rips down the wall between them – wants her to cry, to yell back, to fight him, to breakdown – anything, any sign of emotion. "You were the same place that you've been my entire life - you were some place else!"

He sees her shutdown before his eyes. Sees the fear in having her carefully built fortifications ripped down. She tries to get past him. Normally he'd let her run away, retreat into her little bubble world where nothing bad happens – but not today. Today had been hell and she was accountable for some of it. He blocks her, physically pushing her back; he was going to make her listen. "No! I'm not gonna let you put some revisionist spin on this where you come off as the injured party."

"Are you going to blame me for taking drugs?" she fires back.

He wants to slam her into a wall. "No! I'm blaming you for not being my mother! Bobby died and I lost a mother," he cries with anguish.

There is a pause and Eleanor looks away. She looks away because she knows it's the truth. And there's so much she wants to say but she doesn't trust herself. She has to get away, so she says shakily. "May I go to bed now?"

Carter steps aside for her, feeling like this is an enactment of the dance they've been doing his entire life.

Eleanor shrinks from him as she walks past and makes her way unsteadily into the hallway and up the stairs to the shelter of her room.

* * *

In her room, Eleanor sits upright on the edge of the bed. Her mother always told her that posture was important, especially in times of crisis. '_What have I told you Ellie?! Keep your back straight - don't slouch – shoulders back!_' she hears her mothers voice in her head.

Eleanor feels tears threaten to fall. She wonders what John hears her say when he thinks of her. What words she's imprinted in his mind.

The tears begin. She tries to hold them in, tries to maintain her posture. But Millicent's continuous backbiting has taken its toll and her resilience was already in tatters when John stepped through the door tonight. She covers her mouth when she feels a sob rising to her lips. She chokes it back and then sinks into the mattress, tears rolling down her cheeks. She never thought things could be this bad again. That she would be quite so alone; quite so pathetic.

She should have come home when John was stabbed but she didn't want to go through that again. Didn't want to sit in another sterile hospital corridor, fearing the worst, being redundant, feeling useless… and after twenty years of neglect, Eleanor hadn't felt she'd earned the right to impose herself on John in his hour of need: to show-up expecting him to be grateful.

Her shoulders shake and she buries her face in the duvet, silencing her cries.

When Millicent phoned them in Tokyo with news of John's attack she had felt the sickness in her stomach, the overwhelming dread and her first thought was that she didn't want to watch her other son die. It was selfish, she felt cowardly but it was something she knew she couldn't do. And even if she could explain it to John, she would never expect him to understand - he has a right to his anger, she only wishes she could bring herself to say sorry. She's done so many things wrong, made so many bad choices that she thinks words are superfluous now, they're beyond that, only she doesn't know what comes next or if there is a next.


	3. Chapter 3

**Timeline:** A River In Egypt  
**  
**

**Floodgates (Part Three)**

They haven't talked about their fight because that's how they do things; they've been skating around it. John's still angry but since their confrontation, his mother's acting differently – she's making an effort to engage him in conversation, to show an interest in his life, she's even polite to Millicent.

Carter watches her move about the kitchen, carefully mentioning his father and trying to gleam information from him - find out if Jack's been in touch: sometimes her behaviour is so practised that John can see all her insecurities tumbling out.

She's making him breakfast and taking responsibility for herself. "We made mistakes, John. _I_ made mistakes. I know. But I don't believe that it's too late to fix it," she says sincerely.

And for a moment, John believes in her. He's never seen her this determined before. He's used to seeing her drift around in a haze of indifference. He can't help but hope that it's true, that this time she won't run away - and although they haven't made the breakthrough he's always wanted, her new outlook is a start.

When John leaves for work, Eleanor begins to clean the kitchen, she's humming, she can't remember the last time she felt this uplifted. She and John have a chance, a real chance at reconnecting.

Her cell phone rings. "Hello," she greets warmly.

"Eleanor? Is that you?" greets Daniel Myers, her attorney and friend of twenty years.

"Hi Daniel. You have news about Jack's whereabouts?" she asks.

"I wasn't calling about that... are you sitting down?"

Eleanor feels winded. "What is it?" she whispers.

"Jack has filed for divorce," Daniel states; he's always found it best to get straight to the point.

Eleanor falls into the nearest chair, dumbfounded. Her heart open, her mouth dry. She never thought Jack would actually go through with it.

"Eleanor? Are you still there? Did you hear what I said?" asks Myers.

She takes a moment and then collects her self. "Yes Daniel, I heard you."

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to tell you like this but you were insistent that I call you if - "

"Yes," she murmurs vaguely. "Thank you."

They hang up. She puts the phone on the counter and Millicent enters the kitchen. She glares at Eleanor but doesn't say anything. As she takes the milk from the fridge and turns to get a cup, Millicent notices an odd look on Eleanor's face. It surprises her – there's something familiar in her expression: a deep sadness, and Millicent feels a pang of sympathy. She knows something had to be seriously wrong for Eleanor to stay at the house without Jack in attendance.

"Do you have plans today?" Millicent asks, pouring herself a cup of coffee and adding milk.

"Um, yes… I'm spending the afternoon at the Children's Cancer Centre," Eleanor answers in a daze.

Millicent can't bring herself to comfort her daughter-in-law, she wouldn't even know how to. "Give my regards to the staff."

Eleanor nods. "I will."

Unsure what else to say, Millicent turns and leaves, coffee in hand.

* * *

Eleanor's at the children's cancer centre, she didn't notice him immediately but he stood apart from the other children clambering for her attention. He looked resigned to being ignored and Eleanor recognised the hopelessness in his eyes… And he doesn't look like Bobby, doesn't sound like him… but there's something about him.

She makes her way through the throng of ladies holding teacups and children on their best behaviour. He's sat in the corner alone.

She approaches, smiling warmly. "Hello," she greets.

He glances up at her, his eyes bright. "Hi."

She indicates the chair beside him. "May I?"

He nods.

"What's your name?" she asks.

"Mickey. Mickey Dylan."

"Well Mickey, Mickey Dylan, you're looking very debonair, do you have a date later on?"

He grins. "No."

Eleanor feigns surprise. "Really?"

"My parents – my foster parents - dressed me up."

"Oh, where are they?" she looks around the room, waiting for him to point them out.

"They're not here," he says, avoiding her eye. "I have two brothers and a sister – she wasn't well this morning, so they couldn't make it."

"I'm sorry," Eleanor says.

"It's okay… I didn't expect… well, they've only just taken me in, it's hard for them. Two of us have leukaemia - "

Eleanor gulps a sharp intake of breath. The room starts to drain of colour, of oxygen, but he's looking at her with such innocence, such belief that she's here to help and there's something about that look that reminds her of Bobby.

* * *

Eleanor arrives back at the house. No sooner is she through the door than she hears Millicent yelling. She removes her coat, puts her purse on the sideboard and makes her way upstairs.

"I don't care what extent of training you've had – this is my house!"

"Mrs. Carter – this is for your own benefit, I have strict instructions to - "

"Don't give me that! You're under instructions from me only – I'm the one paying your wages."

Eleanor steps into the room and Millicent looses her stride as soon as she claps eyes on her. "What are you doing here?" she demands of Eleanor.

"I just got back from the center and heard shouting, what's going on?"

The physical therapist turns to Eleanor. "She won't do her exercises."

"That's because I don't need to today, I feel fine."

"Millicent be reasonable," Eleanor implores.

The physical therapist looks at Eleanor. "She needs to do at least an hour a day, otherwise - "

Millicent folds her arms in defiance and angrily addresses the nurse. "Why are you telling her? I'm perfectly capable of understanding, of making my own decisions. It's none of her business."

The physical therapist sighs. "You won't get better if you keep this up, you need to - "

"Get out – both of you! Get out now!" Millicent yells.

The physical therapist obeys but Eleanor is less willing to be pushed around. She takes a step towards her mother-in-law. "Millicent, she's only doing her job – you need to do the exercises, John said that if you don't you're in more danger of - "

"I have no interest in your opinion, Eleanor. You're the last person I'd choose as a caretaker, more likely to get frost-bite than get better."

Eleanor is silent, unsure what to do. The physical therapist slips down the stairs and departs quickly.

Millicent keeps her discerning gaze on Eleanor. "I don't know why you're here or what you're hoping to achieve - and I don't care. I have no interest in your motives, I only care about John. You're not welcome here, John's too polite to say anything but I'm not. You sour the air in this house; I'd like you to leave, as soon as possible. Go stay in a hotel, go back to Europe… just leave."

Eleanor's face burns; she turns and hurries from the room.

In the hallway she hesitates, then rushes into her room and finds her bottle of Xanax. With shaky hands she takes one, then two pills. She puts them back in the top draw of her bedside table. She sits on her bed for a moment, her hands are shaking.

She sees Mickey in her head and then Bobby lying on a hospital bed, wasting away, then John yelling at her the other day, voicing all the things she'd hoped she'd never have to face. The pills don't work like they should, so she stands and paces the room. She doesn't want to leave, she can't. She thinks it'll be alright when Millicent calms down… John won't want her to leave… will he?

Her room is dark and morose; 'This house is so damned oppressive!' she thinks, and her hands won't stay still, she tries to concentrate but her mind is too agitated.

She goes downstairs into the kitchen and finds a bottle of Bordeaux. She opens it and pours a large glass, gulping it down. It burns her throat - she coughs and then takes another swig. When she finishes the first glass she pours another, sits down at the counter and sips slowly at the second offering, feeling calmer.

She twists the rim of the glass, round and round. Clockwise, then counter clockwise. Round and round.

Mickey's smile/Bobby clutching her hand/John crying in her arms/Jack pulling away from her/Millicent there, always there, over-looking everything and disapproving/Mickey's smile.

She picks up the bottle and glass, carrying them with her into the lounge. She sits on the sofa, as she does so, a chandelier light goes out. Eleanor smiles to herself as she sits in the dark, 'How fitting,' she thinks.

* * *

When Carter gets home he find's his mother up a ladder. This morning she was in the kitchen cooking. He's getting used to seeing her in unexpected places. He's getting used to her period. It terrifies him because he doesn't want to depend on her, doesn't want to be disappointed again.

Eleanor's trying to change the light bulb, to prove that she's still of use when John walks in.

"What are you doing?" he asks, seeing her fiddling with the chandelier.

"The light went out," she explains, concentrating on the task she's set herself.

"Why didn't you tell Henry?" he enquires.

Annoyed by this remark, Eleanor snaps. "I'm not incompetent. I'm capable of changing a light bulb," then she drops the light bulb, it smashes on the floor and everything seems hopeless. The wine is in her veins, pumping her heart hard and she thinks, at the end of the day; screw it all! Screw Jack, screw leukaemia, screw Millicent and screw the light bulb. "Damn it!" she curses.

John reaches out for her. "Here, come down from there. I'll get it."

"Ah, screw it. I'll get it later," she retorts, trying not to give it meaning.

She makes her way down the ladder, loses her balance and slips. And Carter thinks, maybe the true test is that when she fell, he caught her.

"Whoa! Have you been drinking?" he guesses as he steadies her.

Eleanor straightens up and turns to face her son. "Uh, Norman Tucker sent Millicent a bottle of 40-year-old Bordeaux as a get-well gift."

"And you what, helped her open it?"

Eleanor feels the need to make him understand this, she wants him to understand. "I spent the entire afternoon at the children's cancer center for Millicent," she tells him, thinking immediately of Mickey. "There was this, uh, one boy…" she shivers, unable to finish. "I came home and I made the mistake of getting in the middle of an argument between Millicent and her physical therapist."

Carter doesn't want to hear it. He's already starting to weaken, can feel her drawing him in and he wants to resist because he can't trust her. Not yet.

* * *

In the bathroom - as she heaves, as her body gives in and the pretence stops, as she feels the combination of Xanax, alcohol and grief – he thinks this isn't how it's supposed to be – she was supposed to take care of him, not the other way round. But he wants to soothe her, so he rubs her back; it's the only comfort he can bring himself to dispense. He thinks she deserves a little compassion since she has stayed in the firing line for over a fortnight.

Eleanor feels humiliated; she's spent so long being in control of herself, this lapse scares her.

She just wants to be obliterated, for the endless days and infinite years to halt. For everything to stop stinging, for every thought not to be about how to appear fine, for every action and word not to be planned.

As she leans her back against the wall, she feels like a wreck. She knew this was coming, knew she couldn't hide forever but she's tried so hard for so long to avoid it and now, she's too exhausted to fight.

John is gazing at her with a look she doesn't recognise, because she doesn't know him. They're strangers and she's kept it that way because John was the only one who could make her feel anything; the only one who reminded her of Bobby. Until Mickey came along.

She's afraid of what she has become, of what she should have been, to John, to her husband, to herself. "I failed you… I failed your brother, and then I failed you," she finds herself saying. Eleanor's chest feels like it's being crushed from the inside and her body is rigid with despair. She hears herself cry, hears the crack in her voice as more words tumble from her lips. "I just stood by while it was eating him alive... I just stood by..."

She can't forgive herself for doing nothing, for being unable to do anything. It was her job to protect her children and she had failed spectacularly.

When John can't bear her crying any longer, he stands up and leans down towards her. She pulls away, as if she might pass on her failure through touch. He slips a hand under her arm and lifts her to her feet. Eleanor wobbles slightly and lets John put a steadying arm around her waist. She hangs her head, thoroughly ashamed.

They take baby steps towards the bathroom door.

"When did you start taking Xanax?" he asks, trying to keep judgement out of his tone.

"Don't scold me John, not now, please – I couldn't bear it."

He opens the bathroom door and they step into the dimly lit corridor. It's late and the house is quiet. He guides her along the landing to her room. As soon as the door closes after them, he asks her again, "I want to know… how long have you been taking Xanax?"

"A couple of years…" Eleanor answers, struggling for words now; she feels heavy with sleepiness and exhaustion.

"A couple of years!" Carter exclaims.

She lies down on her bed and John removes her shoes.

"On and off… on and off…" she says absently, closing her eyes and sighing into her pillow.

"Mom?"

"Mmm?" she murmurs.

He decides to leave it, she's worn out. "Nothing."

He turns to go. Eleanor reaches out and grabs his arm, John stops and looks down at her.

"Stay… please," she requests. "I don't feel well… "

"Ssshhh," Carter soothes.

He pulls the duvet up and over her, then sits next to her on the bed, watching over her as she drifts asleep muttering. "I'm sorry it has to be like this John… I'm so sorry…"

He brushes the hair away from her face and kisses the top of her head. Whatever else she may be, she'll always be his mother.


	4. Chapter 4

**Timeline:** Damage Is Done

**Ivory Towers (Part Four)**

In the morning John takes his mother a cup of coffee. He knocks on her door gently and then enters. Eleanor sits up in bed, hung-over and extremely embarrassed.

She takes the offered coffee gladly. "Thanks," Eleanor says sheepishly, avoiding his eyes. "About last night… I, uh… I - "

Carter decides to spare her the pain of reliving the previous night. "It's my turn to cook you breakfast," he informs her and smiles.

Eleanor looks surprised, then sips her drink. "I don't think I could manage - "

"Come on, it'll do you good. Doctor's orders."

She smiles. "In that case, I can hardly say no."

He walks towards the door, calling over his shoulder. "Come down when you're ready, I'll be in the kitchen."

Eleanor enters the kitchen in her robe, hair wet and skin gleaming from having a shower. She sits at the counter, watching her son move expertly around the kitchen.

"Someone's been taking lessons," she remarks.

"Kerry taught me a few things," he explains.

"Oh – girlfriend?"

Carter grins. "No, Kerry's my boss."

Eleanor looks uncomfortable. "Oh."

Carter laughs. "No, nothing like that. I lived with her – as a tenant – for a while when Gamma and Grandpa cut me off."

Eleanor glances down at her hands. The more time she spends with John, the more she feels dislocated from his life. She doesn't even know the basics and for the first time in a long time, she realizes that she wants to.

"Done!" he says, putting a plate of scrambled eggs and toast in front of her.

They look at each other; and it's still an effort between them but it's getting easier.

Carter is pouring her another coffee when Millicent walks in. She starts at seeing them getting along so well.

"Morning," Millicent says distrustfully.

"Morning Gamma – do you want eggs?"

"I'll stick with cereal," Millicent replies.

"Morning Millicent," Eleanor greets breezily, tucking into her breakfast.

John tries to fetch Millicent's breakfast; her movements are slow and she looks like she's in pain but she brushes off her grandson's attempts to be helpful and so John sits next to his mother and sips at a glass of orange juice.

"So, what are you up to today?" he asks Eleanor.

"I'm attending the leukaemia centre's Child of the Year ceremony," she answers and then continues to eat. She doesn't ask what his plans are for the day; she's out of practice at this.

Carter nods. "Good for you."

Millicent scowls. "It's Saturday."

Eleanor looks at her mother-in-law. "Yes?"

"I thought you had your beauty treatments on Saturdays," Millicent states disdainfully.

Eleanor uses her fork to shift a slice of toast from one side of her plate to the other. "Well this Saturday I shall be at the leukaemia centre's Child of the Year ceremony."

John looks at his grandmother. Millicent shrugs - she puts no faith in Eleanor's `new leaf' endeavour.

* * *

Mickey's knuckles are white as he holds Eleanor's hand, his grip is vice-like, as if he's afraid she'll disappear if he lets go.

The ceremony has long since ended and as they pose for pictures for the Center's PR department, Eleanor begins to worry for Mickey's health. It's cold. He's already ill; she didn't feel it was right to keep him out here so long.

"We should go back inside," she tells the photographer.

"Just another round," the photographer insists.

"It's freezing - we really should go back - "

The photographer ignores her and starts shooting another round of film. The clicks and flashes seem endless, she feels like she's being assaulted. Then the barrage ends abruptly as he reloads his camera. Eleanor turns to go back inside.

"Hey, lady - " the photographer calls out. "Where are you going? We have to do another set."

She stops and frowns. "You have enough - "

Mickey squeezes her hand. "Please," he whispers.

"C'mon - one more round," says the photographer impatiently, bustling forward and moving them back in position. Eleanor keeps her eyes on Mickey, his hand is like ice and his nose is turning pink.

* * *

She took Mickey to County first because all she could think was, `_John will know what to do._'

Eleanor watches the nurse stick a needle into Mickey's arm and she wants to squirm but the boy's eyes are fixed firmly on her.

"You don't have to look, you know," Mickey says.

She folds her arms across her chest in defiance. "I'm fine," Eleanor lies and she knows Mickey will believe her but she's not so sure about John. He's heard those words from her before and then seen her aftermath.

* * *

During the course of the day, Carter watches his mother bugging the staff and standing-over Mickey and he can't work her out. She's been polite to Abby, been inquisitive about medical procedure and he wants to shout `Where is this coming from? Where were you when I needed you?'

John remembers what it's like to want to curl up to her, to be comforted by her, be infolded in her arms that were always safe: a refuge where all the bad things in life couldn't reach him. So he doesn't resent Mickey; he resents his mother. That she can bestow all this attention and affection on a boy she doesn't know, yet deny him, her own son.

And until now, Carter thought he had got past this, but he supposes twenty years of rejection can't be made-up for in a month, no matter how good the intention or how hard they try. He wants to be over it, doesn't want to spend the rest of his life in limbo with her but he can't help the anger. It comes naturally to him where she's concerned. He wants to tell her she's doing the right thing by Mickey but all he can think of is getting Christmas cards saying "Thinking Of You" instead of her being there. And he's sure she has a threshold for pain, that soon, he'll push her too hard… but he feels like hurting each other is the only way they know how to communicate.

Yet, he checks Mickey's chart when she asks him to, they stand in the lounge, he gets blinded by rage again, because he thought she had made progress, thought she was finally coming to terms with Bobby's death… and then she springs this on him. She's being selfish again, being insensitive: being his mom.

He flicks through Mickey's case notes and tries to keep his tone neutral as he translates the chart. "He's, uh, in blast crisis. He's had a recurrence. His bone marrow is full of leukaemia cells and he's not going to be able to fight infection."

Eleanor's eyes search his. "Is there something we can do?"

She thinks, maybe she's holding onto Mickey because she's never disappointed him - he looks at her with fresh eyes, with new hope and she thinks that, maybe, if she can come through for this boy, then, somehow, it will change the fact that she let Bobby down.

John wants her to stop pressing, so he replies coldly. "I'm sure they're giving him antibiotics. The oncologist will know exactly what to do."

Eleanor nods her head. "Yes, of course but he's just a number to them. Maybe if, if you spoke to the doctors they'd take him more personally."

Carter can't hold it in any longer. "Why are you doing this? I mean, you've been here all day. You've been holding his hand, clipping his chart, bugging the staff!"

"I'm trying to help a sick child," she declares, puzzled by John's behaviour.

"Mom, he has leukaemia."

She holds her sons gaze. "I know that," she replies and feels her blood run cold at John's intonation.

"And he may not survive. Look if you've got some kind of twisted need to relive this, that's fine. I'm not going to do it again. I made my peace a long time ago."

Eleanor stares at John, stunned. After all they've been through together in the last month, she's surprised that he's unafraid of breaking the fragile bond that has grown between them. But he's braver than her: Eleanor's seen his ability to face things and she feels proud of him, she only wishes she could say he got that trait from her.

Carter feels momentarily guilty about being so cold in relation to Mickey's plight - but this feeling is soon buried by a sense of rectitude – his mother was never one for follow through. He stops and corrects himself - after Bobby died, she was never one for follow through. He can't let her repeat history – that was the basis of their renewed relationship, wasn't it? To break the mould? Carter doesn't want her using Mickey as an excuse to fall back into old patterns; it would be all too easy for her to give-up again.

* * *

Eleanor has fallen asleep at Mickey's beside. Carter enters the room and watches her for a moment. She looks so delicate. So peaceful.

"She's pretty tired," Mickey tells him.

John turns his attention to Mickey. "How you feeling?"

"Kind of better."

And Carter sees what his mother means; there's something familiar about Mickey, the same kindness that Bobby had. That while he was dying, he was worried about everyone else. John pushes his brother's memory from his mind. "Yeah? They treating you okay up here?"

"They don't tell me much. They tell her, mostly," the boy confides.

"You know what's happening to you, Mickey?"

"I know it's back. But… I don't think it'll be as bad this time. I was by myself before," Mickey looks over at Eleanor, his eyes filled with such affection; such trust that it makes Carter want to cry.

John turns his attention back to his mother, he has a sudden urge to hug her, to comfort her and in that instant he can almost forgive the past. Almost.


	5. Chapter 5

**Timeline: **A Simple Twist Of Fate

**Ivory Towers (Part 5)**

By Socket

Eleanor has lived inside of herself for so long; she finds it terrifying to suddenly be faced with reality again. The world inside her head is safe but she's tired of her self-imposed seclusion.

As she watches Mickey's struggle; witnesses the blood he coughs up, she realises she's remained protected too long and she doesn't know how to cope, doesn't know what to do or the right words to offer… and the terror of being powerless takes possession of her, so she grabs her coat and finds herself running away from the mess and pain…

She reaches the hospital elevator and pounds the 'call' button.

It's like it was all those years ago… the same smell, the same fear, the same feeling… only, this time, she can escape. This time it isn't her son.

John appears behind her. "Mom? Mom… what are you doing?" he asks.

"I can't. Please, take care of him…" she barely gets the words out; John will make a better job of this than she ever could - he still has a heart; she numbed hers years ago.

"No, the only reason I'm here is 'cause you asked for my help," John remarks sharply. She sees the disbelief and disgust in his eyes. It pierces her.

"I can't see him in that kind of pain, not again…" Eleanor murmurs... because there's something about Mickey that's so reminiscent of Bobby.

"What did you expect?" Carter snaps.

"I don't know." She answers truthfully; she had expected something... but not this ceaseless pain. She thought she could do some good this time, but she had misjudged her resilience, again.

The elevator arrives and Eleanor steps onto it.

"You cannot get this kids hopes up and then leave," John states, devastated because he'd hoped this moment wouldn't come. The doors start to close and Eleanor feels relief. John forces the elevator doors back – his face flushed with rage, his tone full of anger. "You're really going to do this? You're gonna drag me back here and then bail when it gets too tough? The kid does not think he'll have to go though this alone again, don't leave him!" Carter pleads.

Eleanor raises her coat to her face; as if it could protect her from John's words but the truth has a way of permeating every layer. She hurts because she knows she's being irresponsible, cruel... Mickey depends on her, as Bobby had... and she was letting yet another little boy down. Her conscience prickles - she was disgusting. But she couldn't go back, it was too dark and painful a place.

A woman calls out, "Hold the elevator. Thank you," and gets in.

This time, John didn't stop the doors from closing.

In the elevator, Eleanor cringes like the coward she knows she is. She's gutless, she's pitiless… leaving that poor boy alone, deserting him like that… she closes her eyes. How had she let herself get pulled back into this nightmare? Why had she befriended Mickey? She knew it would lead to this, she knew.

* * *

The elevator doors shut and John stares at the closed doors. He can't believe she's done it again, can't believe he's surprised... after all, isn't that exactly what he's been waiting for her to do since this whole thing began?

* * *

Eleanor packs hurriedly. She needs to get away, needs distance from John, Millicent, this house and all the memories of Bobby.

She calls a cab and puts her bags by the front door.

She paces the hallway, waiting. She hates this house. Feels trapped, confined, so she steps out into the garden, breaths in the air. She closes her eyes and feels the cold against her face. She wishes she could be stronger, wishes she could put Mickey before her fears. Wishes she were someone else.

She stares up at the star-filled sky and remembers how Bobby had once tried to tell her the names of the constellations, but she and Jack had been too busy getting ready for a dinner party to pay him any attention. She'd shooed him away… Eleanor feels the familiar lump forming in her throat. She wishes she could take that day back, wishes she had taken hold of Bobby's hand, followed him out and let him point-out the stars, tell her the story behind each cluster… but she hadn't – the Hamilton's dinner party had been far too important at the time. Eleanor fills with shame. Millicent was right – she was a disgrace as a mother.

Sensing someone close to her, Eleanor turns to see John. She turns away again. She's tried so hard to make amends with John and at the last, she had ruined it. It seemed the only thing she was good at was tarnishing things.

"Your car's here," he tells her.

"I managed to get a flight to Logan but I'm on standby. Can you imagine? I'll call you from the Cape. I'm sorry. John, I really am…" she says, not really addressing the issue, but saying enough to let him know her regret is genuine.

John gazes at her. "Kids, you know… They get over stuff. I bet if you went back, Mickey would forget about today as quickly as he can down a milkshake."

Eleanor knows he's trying to give her an out, but she doesn't deserve one. "No, you were right. I became too involved," she says.

"I'm thinking maybe I wasn't right," John confesses.

It shouldn't be this simple to be forgiven. Eleanor's eyes move to the tree house John and Bobby had made as children and she smiles. How long ago that seems, and yet - she remembers every detail clearly. "You see that tree?" She finds herself saying. "You and your brother built a fort on that big limb and you played Tarzan."

"Bobby played Tarzan. I played Cheetah," John corrects.

"Hmm… You fell down and you sprained your wrist. And you never even thought about telling me that he pushed you," Eleanor says... because the truth is addictive, once she's started.

John looked startled. "You knew?" he exclaims.

Eleanor smiles. "You two had your secrets. You stuck together. I saw no reason to pull you apart," she pauses. She'd always wanted her children to share a bond; she had never been close to her siblings. An image of Bobby dying flashed into her mind; forceful and raw. "I didn't spend much time thinking about how your brother's death affected you. I didn't spend much time on anyone," she admits, her voice quivering.

"Do you have time now?" John asks, holding her gaze.

"I won't betray another little boy." Eleanor vows.

"Betray?" Carter questions, confused.

Eleanor's gaze was unwavering as she said. "You don't want to give up hope. You can't. Hope is all either of you having. Your brother believed me when I told him he'd get better. It didn't matter where he was, how he felt, what the doctor said. I told him he'd get better. He died believing me."

Carter shook his head, because for the first time, he feels like he understands his mother. "No. He was pretending for you. That was another one of our secrets. I was supposed to not let you be sad, I was supposed to make you forget. To make you happy - he made me promise to make you happy." John feels his failure impede on him and his voice cracks. He loves Bobby and he had failed to keep his promise. "I'm sorry, Mom," he apologizes.

They reach for each other and embrace.

Eleanor holds him tightly; she never wants him to hurt again because of her. "Oh… I love you… Do you hear me? I love you!" she whispers, her heart brimming with joy and grief.

Carter holds Mickey tight as the boy undergoes chemotherapy injections. He glances up to see his mother, grasping Mickey's hand firmly, comforting the boy.

Eleanor looks to John for reassurance, and he gives it willingly. For the first time, he can look at her with appreciation, and he loves her for it.

Eleanor stopped making promises after Bobby's death, now she can't stop making them - to John, Mickey and herself. It scares her, but she finally realises that all this waiting has been a waste of time. Waiting for Jack to come back, for John to forgive her, for the pain to go away… for many things. She should have fought earlier.

She feels like she's been granted another chance and she doesn't know why it's happening now, why she had to sink deeper into misery before she could find the strength to climb out of the prison she had created for herself… she's just thankful that she has.

It wasn't until she held John in her arms and said, 'I love you' that she realised she hadn't said those words to anyone in twenty years.

Twenty years of sleep-walking through life, and now, she wishes Jack had left her sooner – he had been her crux. She used and neglected him; and he just took it. He was a weak man, but he had finally gained the courage to walk out on her and she wants to commend him for that.

But she's not ready to confront Jack just yet; first she needs to find out who she is and what she's capable of. She needs to be there for John and Mickey… and then she'll find Jack and see if there's anything worth saving between them. She wants to try and make up for all those years she was absent in their marriage; because if John can forgive her, maybe Jack can too.

Eleanor's known disappointment, been torn apart by grief and yet, there's still a light somewhere inside of her. She thought it had gone out but now she feels its heat, feels its strength and she's ready to face herself. Ready to live again.

~The End~


End file.
